


When The Watcher Died

by Hatless_Hatter



Category: Pillars of Eternity
Genre: And I made myself sad, Dead Watcher AU, Deal With It, I heard about that lioness with a mane and fell in love, I picked the wheel and this came to mind, Other, The lion is a female, and has a mane, or go to the wheel, so at the beginning of POE2, you can go back to your body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 22:37:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16128188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hatless_Hatter/pseuds/Hatless_Hatter
Summary: Nothing was ever simple with them. Fire Godlike and all.Go after the big glowing statue that almost killed them to save them.That's what the plan was, anyway.





	When The Watcher Died

**Author's Note:**

> I only ever played Deadfire (shame on me), and still haven't finished it. (Further shame on the unit) I instantly fell for Edér. And I made things worse by making a Ranger.  
> I made myself sadder writing this.

Edér spent days at their side, watching for any sign of life aside from the all too shallow breaths that moved their chest. 

The Watcher. His oldest friend, struggling once again to cling to life. Some things didn't change. 

He carried them onto the Defiant, their body growing colder the farther the colossus moved from them. 

_ Follow the giant glowing statue. Nothing ever was simple with you. How is it none of us find it strange that to save you we have to follow the thing that almost killed you?  _

The first few days on the ship seemed fine, the crew knew exactly how to make the ship sprint through the waves. The Watcher seemed to grow stronger the closer they got to Eothas. Around the fourth day on the sea, the burnt metal color skin of The Watcher seemed darker. 

_ You only ever looked like that when the gods were talkin’ to you.  _

The gods had never been popular with The Watcher, but they'd done what they'd asked. The Dyrwood children's souls had been returned to their bodies, and The Watcher had told Edér that Berath had been reluctant to allow it. Edér hoped The Watcher wasn't bartering with the death god now. Berath was a god that held grudges. 

The Watcher's skin stayed its unnatural hue long enough to worry the farmer. They'd never stayed like that for this long before. 

It was only when the Steward Spirit called to him to bring him from his sleep did Edér see it.

The fire of their hair had gone out. The Watcher was not breathing anymore. 

The farmer was not aware of his knees hitting the ground beside The Watcher's bed. Nor did he notice his hands taking their much smaller icy fingers in his calloused grip. When he placed his forehead to theirs, he noticed their expression. 

He'd never seen them smile with so much peace before. He'd only known them with too much responsibility to their name. 

Their eyes no longer had the dark bags under them, the corners of their eyes were not crinkled with worry. Their mouth was not set in a constant stressed slight frown that they had worn only when they thought no one saw. 

The Watcher ignored the pleas of the farmer for them to wake. They remained cold and quiet. Exactly as The Watcher was not. The Watcher was warmth, kindness, nervous energy and arguably too much magic. 

A deep rumbling mewl at the farmer’s side reminded him that he was not alone. The great golden face of a lion, The Watcher's faithful companion and body guard, nudged the farmer gently but firmly away from their charge. The lion's eyes held a profound sadness Edér had never thought an animal, even one as smart as The Watcher's, could possess. The lion, resting her front legs like a human would lean forward on a bar, weight on their elbows, gently placed her golden front paws, large as dinner plates, on the shoulder and belly of The Watcher, and the lion gave a mournful sound that echoed Edér's feelings. 

The lion nuzzled the face of her companion, a great pink tongue licking at the days old remnants of The Watcher's pained tears. 

_Always_ _wondered_ _how_ _a fire godlike could make tears._

The lion, her mane matted from refusing anyone's intentions to brush it, made as if to have The Watcher pet them, her nose trying to get under The Watcher's limp hand. 

Edér dared to lift The Watcher's hand to the lion's mane, and was horrified to have the lion accept his assistance. 

_ Always had to bargain with you when they were asleep.  _

Edér fought back the tears, setting The Watcher's too cold hand on the faithful friend's mane. The lion's eyes closed, as if trying to remember the feeling of The Watcher absently stroking her mane. 

The lion sat down suddenly, rear end hitting the ground as they seemed to lose the ability to stand at The Watcher's side. The great beast sighed, head resting fully on The Watcher's elfen body. 

Edér remembers The Watcher speaking to the big cat, their voice higher than usual as they cooed at the animal as if it were a child. 

_ Godlike can't have kids. You are her kid. _

Edér extends a shaking hand to the golden mane of the beast that had once tried to maul him. He had been trying to drag the unconscious watcher to safety in the midst of a battle they had been dragged into. He hadn't met The Watcher yet, but saw a person getting attacked for no reason and wanted to help. The lion hadn't known that. He still had the scars she'd given him on his forearms. The lion sometimes licked the claw marks after a battle. The Watcher said the lion was apologising.

The lion mewled softly, pressing into the warm touch. She turned her head and looked at Edér, golden brown eyes once like glowing coals now dim and cold. 

_ Spirit beasts. They know when the other is gone.  _

It's a thought that Edér dreads confirming more than any other. The Watcher, gone for good. No more near death quips. No jokes about popping corn with their “hair”. No casual lounging against each other after a fight, their head on his chest or shoulder. 

Edér couldn't imagine it. A world without his  friend. A world without a watcher who could give him a reason to smile when all seemed lost and hopeless. But the lion had confirmed his fears. His best friend was gone. 

“I'm so sorry.” The farmer says to the beast, looking in it's unbearably agonized eyes. The lion closes its eyes again and leans its head towards Edér, who, having seen The Watcher do so themselves, leans his head towards the beast, letting his forehead touch the big cat's. 

A spark of warmth lights in his chest when he feels the coarse fur and warmth of the animal's face. A familiar feeling. Similar to the feeling he had when The Watcher laid their head on his chest. 

_ They're not gone if you're still here. _

The lion seemed to have the same idea and flicked their tail to curl slightly around Edér's leg. The lion had done the same with The Watcher countless times, letting The Watcher know she was there, letting them know they weren't alone. 

Edér threw his arms around the great lion's neck, burying his face in her mane, letting his tears flow. 

He hadn't cried since he was a child. He hadn't lost so much in such a short time since then. 

“I'm not them.” Edér whispered to the lion, who gave as much of a hug as she could, her head pressing down on his shoulder, her tail wrapped around his leg. 

“I'm sorry I'm not them. I don't know what to do.” 

The lion pressed forward slightly, bringing her head down a bit tighter against his back, hugging tighter. The lion could take care of herself, and now it seemed she would take care of her companion's friend. 

Edér clung tightly to the lion, holding on to the last piece of his friend he had left. When the boatswain came into the cabin to ask for instructions, he saw the motionless watcher and the crying Edér. Beodul knew what had happened. The Watcher, the captain was dead. Their soul had gone to the wheel, and now there was no plan. 

Edér said they should return to Caed Nua. The Watcher had family there. They should be there for the memorial. 

  
  


The Watcher was given a dignified burial at sea. A longboat filled with flammable wood and tinder, their body blessed for acceptance to Ondra's embrace. The lion roared her sadness and licked her companion's face one last time before The Watcher was lowered into the ocean and Edér lit an arrow. 

The lion sat upright at his side, her tail wrapped around his ankle. Edér knew now why The Watcher had refused to go anywhere without the beast. Edér knew he wouldn't have had the strength to set the boat aflame without her. 

The arrow flew, quick and true to the boat and its cargo. Edér remembered who taught him how to use a bow with perfect aim, and watched as their body burned. He allowed himself to cry once more, shaking hand holding tight to the lion's mane. 

_ Ain't ever gonna be the same without you. _

  
  


When he came back to The Watcher's family, they saw the lion and knew what had happened.

“They'd already had a second chance at life.” The older sister had said, wiping tears from her eyes as she pet the lion. 

“Too much to ask for a third, I guess.” 

The Watcher had been the only godlike born to their family, one child of three, and while The Watcher had been loved, they had been lonely. Their body was the same size as their family, but they were made of fire. They were different. 

“I hope they passed peacefully. They'd been through enough to earn it a thousand fold.” The younger sister had whispered, arms around the lion's neck. 

“They did.” Edér told them quietly, taking solace in that fact. He'd never forget the look of peace on The Watcher's face. A pleasant death mask if there ever was. 

The sisters thanked him for telling them and asked if the lion would stay with them. Edér told them that he didn't know, but that the beast would know what it wanted. 

The lion licked the hands of The Watcher's family and returned to Edér's side. The sisters smiled and asked him to visit often. The Watcher had loved to bring the lion by. 

Edér said he'd try, but he had no home in Caed Nua with The Watcher gone. He went to return to his parents. He wanted to see his family again. 

  
  
  


Years passed and the lion aged as lions do. Edér wondered if, had The Watcher been alive, the lion would have aged as she had. She had white fur in her face and mane, her eyes having long since gone cloudy. In the years Edér had known The Watcher and the lion, the lion had not seemed to age, but with The Watcher gone to the wheel, whatever magic had kept the lion young had not remained. 

Edér had gotten older too, his once golden hair now greying in places. He had lived through the colossus’ rise and fall. Whoever had stopped the mad god had not been The Watcher, and Edér was glad it hadn't mattered in the end. The Watcher, he had realized after years of sorrow, had done more than enough the first time. They had deserved a rest. He was glad they had had peace in their final moments. 

The lion spent most of her time laying on the hearth rug, eyes closed as she breathed in deep breaths of comfort and familiarity. The cabin was small, enough for Edér and The Watcher's lion. He hunted whenever he could, bringing the lion the best pieces he could. She wasn't as picky an eater as she had been a few years previous, but Edér still gave her the best. 

When winter came, he and the lion would keep warm together in front of the fire, his mattress on the ground, her huge head and body curled around his, her tail wrapped around his legs. Edér found peace in the last remnant of his best friend. He hoped they knew he kept her safe, fed, and warm. 

 

The lion passed in the spring, her now pale golden body sat on a sunny hill near the cabin one morning, her tail flicking as Edér scratched her ears before going to hunt. He returned to the hill, her magnificent head resting on her massive paws, eyes closed, having passed in her sleep. 

Edér cleaned the game he had killed, salted it and prepared it enough to leave it for a while, and picked up his shovel. 

The ground on the hill was soft and he gave the lion the blessings of Eothas, tears in his eyes as he buried what was left of his best friend. He knelt on the deep brown earth, pressed his forehead to the ground, and once more allowed himself to weep. The Watcher was gone now, their lion dead and buried in a grave Edér would mark with good stone. 

_ I hope I did what you'd have wanted.  _

  
  


When Edér walked past a mirror, he saw a reflection of a man who had lived too long. His parents had been buried near the lion, as close as family as he had. He had no children, he'd been too old and too distracted. He'd be the last to die. He wasn't sure if he'd be found when he did pass to the wheel. The thought didn't bother him too much. 

Aloth found him before he died, the elf looking as old as elves do when they have two souls in them. He asked about The Watcher and the lion and Edér. There was happiness found in talking to another of The Watcher's friends, old memories of battles and struggles and friendship and love. 

Aloth told him where he'd been before The Watcher passed and how the wizard had felt their passing. The two had been close as lovers and Aloth had hoped to see them again, but his work had kept him away. He regretted nothing more than not seeing The Watcher more often. 

Edér told the elf about The Watcher, how they had been at peace when they passed to the wheel and how the lion had stayed with him. Aloth was glad the lion had continued to live and stay with Edér. They had all loved The Watcher's lion. 

 

When death came for Edér, he was ready to go. He had rested for the last years of his life, spending time gardening and tending to the three graves on the hill. The stone markers still stood tall. 

“ _ Hello, old friend.”  _

A soul stood before him, a lion's soul at their side. Edér smiled and walked with his friend to the wheel. 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't want to hear anything about "female lion's can't have manes." Deadfire ain't real, and even if that mattered, she'd still have a mane.  
> Besides, there is that female lion with a mane and I love her. 
> 
> Have a read on female maned lion's here: https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.newscientist.com/article/2106866-five-wild-lionesses-grow-a-mane-and-start-acting-like-males/amp/


End file.
